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Week Twenty, Day Two

Acts 27: 9-20

Luke describes in great detail the fits and starts by which Paul's journey to Rome began. Finally, in verse 9, he notes that so much time had been lost that the weather made the journey dangerous. By now it was November, and, with the tiny ships of that day, sailing was suspended until spring. Julius was in a hurry, though, and the ship's captain thought the weather would hold. Paul strenuously warns against setting sail. The fact that he had any voice in this at all is telling. No doubt Paul was the most experienced traveler on the ship, but, nonetheless, the centurion heeded the advice of the ship's captain rather than the prisoner.

At first, a strong southern wind made it seem that they had made the correct choice, but they soon sailed headlong into a terrible northeaster that threatened to break the boat apart. The sailors knew they were in serious trouble. They had no choice but to furl the sails and let the wind drive them. As the storm grew worse, they threw overboard some of the cargo that was the real purpose for the journey. With that gone, there would be no profit or payoff for this journey. Still, their only choice was their money or their life. On the third day, as the storm continued to pound them, they were forced to throw the ship's tackle overboard.

Luke notes that days passed without them seeing the sun or stars, and, ultimately, “all hope of our being saved was at last abandoned.” It isn't a statement of cynical pessimism but a realistic assessment of the situation. The ship would not survive and, hence, neither would they. They were being driven out of control toward land where the ship would break apart and they would be drowned.

Notice that the statement is not tentative or conditional. A terminal diagnosis has been pronounced. “All hope was abandoned.” Now what? Do they simply accept their fate and sit down prepared to die? “I'm sorry; the cancer is inoperable.” The note said, “I'm leaving. I don't love you. Don't try to contact me.” We all have faced a terminal diagnosis for ourselves or those we love. The truth is none of us get out of this life alive. How we live with that reality is the ultimate test we all face.

Last week a dear, longtime friend died. Her death came far too quickly and long before those of us who loved her were ready. She knew for just a couple of months that she had a terminal diagnosis. As I cast around trying to deal with her passing, a quote came to mind that I used many years ago at the funeral of a young man who died of AIDS just before his 30 th birthday. I remember the quote but not the source I'm afraid: “Death is more universal than life. Everyone dies, but not everyone lives.”

It brought me comfort to know that, although my friend died all too soon, she was someone who truly lived. I'm not sure if the sailors could say that, but Paul certainly could. He had crammed all the life he could into all the time he had, so he faced the end very differently (as we will see tomorrow). The question is will we?

Blessings,

Michael Piazza
President, Hope for Peace & Justice

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